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V.' 


A  DISCOURSE, 

Preached  at  the  FUNERAL 

OF    THE    REVEREND 

ELIZUR  GOODRICH,  D.  D. 

PASTOR  OF  THE  CHURCH  IN  DURHAM, 

AND     ONE     OF    THE 

MEMBERS  OF  THE  CORPORATION 

O  F 

YALE.COLLEGE5 

BY    THE 

Reverend  TIMOTHT  DWIGHT,    D.  D. 

President  of  YALE-COLLEGE; 

NOVEMBER  25th,  1797. 

Printed  at  the  Requeft  of  the  Congregation. 

NEW. HAVEN; 
PRINTED  BY  T.   and   S.  GREEN. 


A  FUNERAL  DISCOURSE. 

ECCLESIASTES  ix.   i. 

— The  Righteous,  and  the  Wife,  and 
their  Works,  are  in  the  hand  of  God. 

THE  uniformity  of  the  divine  difpenfations 
towards  the  righteous,  and  the  wicked, 
was  to  Afaph,  as  he  informs  us  in  the  73d  Pfalm, 
a  fource  of  great  rperplexity  and  diftrefs.  It  ap- 
pears, that  he  was  deeply,  and  for  a  long  time, 
employed  in  meditating  on  this  myfterious  fub- 
ject ;  and,  the  more  he  confidered  it,  the  more  he 
doubted  and  defponded.  Reduced,  at  length,  to 
a  ftate  bordering  on  agony  and  defpair,  he  exclaim- 
ed "  I  have  cleanfed  my  heart  in  vain,  and  warn- 
ed my  hands  in  innocency ;  for  all  the  day  long 
have  I  been  plagued,  and  chaftened  every  morn- 
ing." 

From  the  profperity  of  the  wicked,  and  his  own 
great  adverfity,  he  was  led  ultimately  to  indulge 
thefe  unhappy  fentiments,  and  to  feel  as  if  God 
had  no  reft,  no  kindnefs,  no  peculiar  care,  for 
righteous  men.  This  dangerous  miftake  was 
however   rectified,  and    thefe  cenfurable  feelings 

7  o 

were  removed,  when  he  afterwards  went,  to  the 
fanctuary  of  God.  Then  underftood  he  the  end 
of  the  wicked.  He  faw  them  fet  in  flippery  pla- 
ces, and  ready  to  be  call:  down  to  deftru&ion.   He 


(     6     ) 

faw,  that  whatever  apparent  errors  were  found  in 
the  difpenfations  of  God,  in  the  prefent  world, 
would  be  finally  proved  not  to  be  errors,  by  their 
connection  with  future  difpenfations  ;  that  the 
Providence  of  God  was  one  great  fcheme,  reach- 
ing through  time,  and  through  eternity  ;  that  the 
parts  of  it,  exifting  here,  were  to  be  explained  by 
their  confequences,  exifting  hereafter ;  that,  thus 
explained,  all  would  be,  and  would  be  found  to  be, 
right ;  and  that  God  would  appear,  as  he  had  de- 
clared himfelf,  and  as  a  perfect  Being  muft  be,  the 
uniform  friend  of  the  Righteous,  and  the  uniform 
enemy  of  the  impenitently  Wicked. 

Solomon,  a  man  of  more  extenfive  views,  clofe 
obfervation,  and  profound  refearch,  than  Afaph, 
and  affifted  by  the  very  difcoveries  made  to  Afaph, 
was  enabled  by  the  Divine  Spirit  to  form  more 
compreheniive,  and  more  accurate  ideas  of  this 
myfterious  fubjecl:.  Calmly  and  carefully  exami- 
ning the  circumftances  of  men,  and  the  Provi- 
dence of  God,  he  faw  clearly,  that  "  all  things 
come  alike  to  all ;  and  that  there  is  one  event  to 
the  righteous  and  to  the  wicked."  With  thefe 
views  he  alfo  determined  eafily  and  certainly,  that 
there  is  "  no  knowledge  of  the  love  or  hatred"  of 
God  to  any  perfon  "  by  all"  that  part  of  his  Pro- 
vidence "  which  is  before  us" — by  his  profperity, 
or  his  adverfity  ;  and  that  he  may  be  in  either  of 
thefe  fituations,  and  ftill  be  wicked,  or  flill  be 
righteous. 

For  all  thefe  things  Solomon  alfo  difcovered  a 
reafon,  which  fatisfied  him  of  the  propriety  of  fuch 
a  fyftem  of  difpenfations  ;  viz.  that  all  thefe  things 
are  in  the  hand  of  God.  This  Infinite  Being,  who 
rules  all  things,  the  greater!:  and  the  leafl,  the  bed: 
and  the  worft,  alike,  with  univerfal  and  irrefiflibk 


(     7     ) 

dominion,  rules  them,  alfo,  with  a  government 
perfectly  wife  and  good.  In  the  hand,  and  under 
the  management,  of  fuch  a  Being,  nothing,  which 
is  wrong,  whatever  may  be  the  appearance  to  us, 
can  exifl  -,  and  nothing,  which  is  right,  and  upon 
the  whole  defirable,  can  fail  to  be  accomplifhed. 
Things,  which  to  our  Minds  are  flrange  and  per- 
plexing, do  indeed  exifl  in  immenfe  multitudes. 
But  this  ought  to  be  expected.  The  works  of 
an  infinitely  wife  and  powerful  Being  mufl  of 
courfe  tranfcend  our  comprehenfion.  They  mufl 
fuit  the  nature,  the  fkill,  wifdom,  power,  and 
goodnefs,  of  fuch  a  Being,  and  mufl  wear  the  im- 
preffions  and  proofs  of  his  Character.  Such  a 
Character,  we  know,  is  far  removed  from  our 
comprehenfion  -,  the  particular  difplays  of  fuch  a 
Character  mufl,  therefore,  be  often  equally  incom  - 
prehenfible.  The  works  of  fuch  a  Being  muft  be 
deligned  to  reach,  either  in  their  nature,  or  in  their 
confequences,  through  eternity  and  immenfity. 
Hence  the  propriety  of  their  exiflence  mud,  in  a 
great  meafure,  depend  on  things  wholly  unknown 
to  us,  and  mufl,  in  a  great  meafure,  be  hidden 
from  our  light. 

No  works  of  God  ought  to  be  expected  to  par- 
take of  this  myflerious  character  more  than  his 
difpenfations  to  the  righteous,  and  to  the  wicked. 
Moral  beings  are  formed  for  endlefs  duration  ; 
and  all  difpenfations  towards  them  mufl,  there- 
fore, have  a  future  reference,  and  involve  confe- 
quences, which  will  extend  through  eternity. 
Hence  all  the  Providence  of  God  refpecting  fuch 
beings  mufl  be  in  the  number  of  the  moil  myf- 
terious  and  incomprehenlible  events.  The  diffi- 
culties and  perplexities  found  in  this  fubject  ought 
then  to  be  confidered  as  things  of  courfe,  as  things 
neceffarily  ariiing  from  the  nature  of  the  fubject. 


(     8.) 

Solomon  has,  therefore,  exhibited  this  fubject 
in  the  manner,  which  is  moft  proper,  moft  accor- 
dant with  truth,  and  moft  adapted  to  quiet  unea- 
iinefs,  and  relieve  perplexity.  We  do  not,  indeed, 
fee  the  reafons,  why  things  are  as  they  are  ;  but 
we  fee  fufficient  reafons  to  believe,  that,  though 
thus  unknown,  they  are  wifely  ordered,  and  will 
terminate  in  the  moft  defirable  manner. 

Among  the  myfterious  difpenfations  of  God  to 
the  righteous,  and  the  wicked,  the  prolongation 
of  the  lives  of  the  wicked,  when  ufelefs,  and  when 
noxious  to  fociety,  and  the  untimely  termination 
of  the  lives  of  the  righteous,  when  moft  ufeful, 
has,  to  me  at  leaft,  feemed  peculiarly  perplexing. 
The  wicked  often  live  to  annoy  and  diftrefs  man- 
kind, and  live  to  advanced  age,  fafe  from  iicknefs, 
accident,  and  violence  -,  while  the  righteous,  not 
unfrequently,  are  cut  off  in  the  morning,  or  in  the 
meridian,  of  their  ufefulnefs ;  when  all  their  ta- 
lents, their  knowledge,  experience,  and  wifdom, 
their  virtue,  weight,  and  influence,  are  in  their 
full  ftrength,  and  appear  to  have  rifen  to  this 
height,  only  to  be  deftroyed.  In  this  lituation 
the  Mind,  adopting  the  words  of  Infpiratiort, 
ilightly  altered,  almoft  inftinctively  cries,  "Where- 
fore haft  thou  made  fuch  men  in  vain  ?" 

To  remove  thefe  impreffions,  and  to  introduce 
into  their  place  fuch,  as  are  more  juft  and  evan- 
gelical, is  the  object  of  this  difcourfe,  and  the 
drift  of  the  text,  on  which  it  is  founded.  If  the 
melancholy  event,  which  has  called  together  this 
AfTembly,  has  affected  them  in  fuch  a  manner, 
and  with  fuch  thoughts,  as  it  has  affected  me, 
fcarcely  any  fubject  can  be  more  fuited  to  the  oc- 
cafion.  The  deceafed  was  taken  from  the  world 
in  the  full  ftrength  of  all  his  ufefulnefs,  and  while 


(     9     ) 

employing  all  his  faculties  in  the  great  bufinefs 
of  doing  extenfive  good.  In  the  view  of  fuch  an 
event  the  ferious  Mind  fearches  for  a  fatisfying 
caufe  of  the  difpenfation,  and  is  ready  to  fpend  its 
thoughts,  if  not  in  murmuring  and  repining,  yet 
in  ufelefs  wonder,  and  cenfurable  perplexity. 

To  difpel  thefe  thoughts,  and  the  emotions 
fpringing  from  them,  no  confideration  can  operate 
fo  effectually  as  that,  fuggefted  by  Solomon  in  the 
text.  "  The  Righteous,  and  the  Wife,  and  their 
works,  are  in  the  hand  of  God."  To  a  coinci- 
dence with  me  in  this  opinion  my  Audience  may 
perhaps  be  advantageoufly  led  by  the  following 
obfervations,  in  which  I  mall  endeavour  to  fiate 
the  real  force  of  this  important  declaration. 

In  the  firft  place*  it  teaches  us,  that  there  is  no 
reafon  why  we  mould  wonder,  that  they  are  fo 
difpofed  of,  or  that  their  concerns  are  ordered  iii 
fuch  a  manner. 

In  the  great  kingdom  of  the  univerfe  purpofes 
infinitely  numerous,  and  infinitely  important,  are 
to  be  accomplished,  of  which  we  have  no  com- 
prehenfion.  As  the  purpofes  are  unknown  to  us, 
fo  the  proper  means  of  accomplifhing  them  are 
alfo  unknown.  If  we  knew  the  ends,  we  mould 
probably  often  fee  the  means  to  be  proper,  and  fit- 
ted to  the  end.  The  ufe,  which  God  intends  to 
make  of  the  righteous  and  their  works,  when  he 
removes  them  from  the  prefent  world,  we  cannot 
know.  It  lies  beyond  the  grave;  in  a  world  in- 
viiible,  in  a  ftate  unknown.  Were  we  acquaint- 
ed with  that  world,  with  the  ftate  of  intellectual 
fociety  in  it,  and  with  the  employments  and  inte- 
refts  of  the  inhabitants,  the  difficulties,  attending 
fuch  events  of  Providence,  as  refpect  them,  might 
probably  vanifh ;  but,  while  thefe  things  are  u'n- 


(     '9     ) 

known,  we  can  form  no  judgment  of  the  proprie- 
ty, or  impropriety,  of  fuch  meafures.  In  the  na- 
ture of  the  cafe,  therefore,  we  fee  fufficient  rea- 
ions  to  determine,  that  God  muff,  of  courfe,  or- 
der his  Providence  in  this  refpect,  in  a  manner 
myfterious  to  us.  That  it  mould  be  myfterious  is 
wholly  to  be  expected,  and  that  it  mould  not  be 
myfterious  cannot  rationally  be  expected.  In-. 
ftead,  therefore,  of  wondering  why  this  part  of 
Divine  Providence  is  myfterious,  we  ought  rather 
to  wonder  if  at  any  time  we  fee  it  diverted  of  myf- 
tery.  The  difpenfations  are  myfterious,  becaufe 
they  are  the  works  of  God,  becaufe  they  are  plan- 
ned and  executed  by  an  infinite  Mind,  and  becaufe 
they  reach  in  their  confeqnences  throughout  e- 
ternity.  The  ways  of  fuch  a  Being  reaching 
through  fuch  an  extent  muft  be  neceffarily  in- 
comprehensible to  beings  of  yefterday,  who  know 
comparatively  nothing.  With  this  confederation 
in  view,  our  doubts,  of  this  nature,  retire  of 
courfe,  our  perplexities  vanifh,  our  fears,  that  the 
world  is  not  wifely  and  happily  governed,  are  re- 
moved, and  our  murmuring  againft.  that  govern- 
ment is  effectually  prevented. 

Afaph,  had  he  thus  thought,  and  thought  as 
extenfi vely  .as  Solomon  appears  to  have  done, 
would  never  have  concluded,  that  he  had  cleanf- 
ed  his  heart  in  vain.  With  his  excellent  difpofi- 
tion  he  would  willingly  have  left  the  whole  fub- 
ject,  unknown  as  it  was,  to  thedifpofal  of  God, 
and  refled  quietly  on  his  wifdom,  equity,  and  con- 
duct of  the  univerfe.  All  who  are  like  Afaph  in 
dilpofition,  will,  if  they  remember,  and  realize, 
the  declaration  of  Solomon,  entertain  the  fame 
views,  and  experience  the  fame  refignation. 

zndfy'.  The  fame  declaration  allures  us,  that 


(   "   ) 

the  Righteous  are  difpofed  of  by  clcfign,  and  not 
by  accident,  and  according  to  the  pleafure  of  God, 
and  not  of  any  other. 

We  are  accuftorned  frequently  to  call  the  dif- 
penfations  of  Providence  by  names,  very  ill  ex- 
prciling  their  real  character.  We  fiile  them  ac- 
cidents and  contingencies,  good  and  ill  luck,  good 
and  ill  fortune,  happy  and  unhappy  chances.  Our 
fuccefs  and  our  difappointments,  we  attribute  to 
our  forecafr.  and  prudence,  or  to  the  want  of  them, 
to  our  induftry  and  exertions,  or  to  our  negligence 
and  floth,  or  to  an  unknown  fomewhat,  which 
we  term  nature,  fortune,  or  chance.  With  fuch 
words  in  our  mouths,  and  the  correfponding  fen- 
timents  in  our  hearts,  we  often  boaft  of  our  attain- 
ments, and  glory  in  our  talents  and  efforts. 

Our  wifdom  and  energy  have,  at  times,  unques- 
tionably a  mare  in  effectuating  the  good,  which 
we  enjoy  ->  as  our  folly  and  indolence  have  in  ac- 
complilhing  the  evil  which  we  fuffer.  God  ufes 
us  as  his  inftruments  in  promoting  his  defigns, 
His  kingdom  is  a  kingdom  of  means,  in  which 
the  faculties  and  exertions  of  his  creatures  are  con- 
tinually employed  by  him  to  accomplifh  his  own 
glorious  purpofes.  At  the  fame  time  it  is  ilili 
true,  that  "  a  man's  goings  are  of  the  Lord." 
Paul  at  the  utmoft  can  only  plant ;  Apollos  can 
only  water  ;  God,  and  God  only  can  give  the  in- 
creafe..  Pride  and  boafting  have,  therefore,  no 
foundation  in  the  nature  of  things.  Reafon,  as 
well  as  Revelation,  fays,  "  Let  him,  that  glori- 
eth,  glory  in  the  Lord." 

Providence,  while  it  employs  our  faculties,  in- 
fluences alfo  by  ten  thoufand  unfoi-efeen  events  our 
various  purpofes,  directs  our  ftep.s,  and  regulates 
our  lot,   both  in  the  prefent  and  future;  world. 


(       12       ) 

A  ftroke  of  lightning,  the  tumbling  of  a  horfe,  a 
defecT:  in  a  bridge,  a  leak  in  a  fhip,  a  worm,  a  fly, 
an  atom,  have  deeply  affected  the  affairs  of  men, 
difconcerted  ambitiftus  defigns,  ruined  vaft  enter- 
prifes,  and  changed  wholly  the  ftate  of  individu- 
als, nations,  and  ages.  Creatures,  on  whom  thefe 
things  can  fo  greatly  operate,  ought  to  be  far  re- 
moved from  boafting  of  themfelves,  or  of  their 
attainments. 

"Luck,  fortune,  chance,  and  accident,  are  names, 
which,  if  ferioufly  ufed,  have  no  meaning.  Not 
a  fparrow  falls  to  the  ground  without  our  heaven- 
ly Father. '  Not  a  hair  lefs,  nor  more,  than  the  al- 
lotted number,  is  found  on  our  heads.  All  things 
are  providential ;  all  are  of  God  jj  all  are  the  refult 
of  wifdom,  contrivance  and  determination.  The 
leaft  fuftain  this  character  as  truly  as  the  greater!;. 
From  this  the  only  juft  view  of  events  the  mind 
is  naturally  and  greatly  led  off  by  a  cuftomary  uie 
of  the  language,  which  I  have  reprobated. 

Whether  we  are  difpofed  to  this  method  of 
confidering  events,  or  not,  we  cannot  hefitate  to 
regard  in  this  manner  thofe  events,  which  refpect 
the  righteous,  if  we  receive  and  realize  the  decla- 
ration of  the  Text.  They,  and  their  works,  their 
talents,  and  their  interefts,  are  in  the  hand  of  God„ 
Nothing,  which  befals  them,  can  be  the  refult  of 
sccident.  Every  thing,  on  the  contrary,  muff  be 
forefeen,  chofen,  and  provided  for,  and  of  courfe 
is  adopted  from  full  knowledge  of  the  propriety 
of  its  exiffence. 

As  God  is  the  fupreme,  and  all  prefent,  as  well 
all  knowing  difpofer,  fo  nothing  can  befal  the 
righteous,  but  in  accordance  with  his  will,  and  as 
the  refult  of  his  pleafure.  The  oppofing  wifhes, 
a'ims,  and  efforts,  of  other  beings  are  here  exerted 


(     13     ) 

in  vain.  "  My  counfel  fhall  fland,  and  I  will  do 
all  my  pleafure" — "  I  work,  and  who  fhall  let  it  ?" 
■ — is  his  own  language  on  this  fubject.  None  can 
let,  i.  e.  hinder,  his  work.  Every  dictate  of  that 
counfel,  however  minute,  will  be  exactly  accom- 
plifhed.  Thefe  declarations,  true  as  applied  to  all 
things,  have  a  peculiar  ground  of  truth  as  applied 
to  the  righteous.  He,  who  attends  fo  minutely 
to  fparrows,  as  to  number  their  days,  and  limit 
their  lives  by  exact  bounds ;  who  fuffers  not  a 
hair  of  our  heads  to  fall  without  his  providence ; 
knows  perfectly,  that  righteous  men,  rational,  im- 
mortal, and  deitined  to  dignified  employments 
and  endlefs  happinefs,  are  of  more  value  than  ma- 
ny fparrows.  Raifed  by  their  character,  endow- 
ments, and  fervices,  to  that  rank  of  being,  in 
which  he  vouchfafes  to  call  them  his  friends,  they 
are  had  in  everlafting  remembrance.  No  mo- 
ment fleets  through  the  reign  of  time  fo  rapidly, 
no  period  rolls  fo  diftantly  in  eternity,  as  ever  to 
occaiion  them  to  be  forgotten.  Every  thing 
which  they  do,  and  every  thing  which  they  need, 
is  frefh  in  the  Infinite  Mind  ;  the  former  will  be 
certainly  and  bountifully  rewarded  ;  the  latter  will 
be  punctually  and  amply  beflowed. 

3dly.  That  the  Righteous  are  difpofed  of  with 
equity. 

"  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right?" 
is  a  queflion,  carrying  its  anfwer  in  itfelf  to  the 
conference  and  conviction  of  every  confiderate  man. 
Injuflice  finds  here  no  room  for  admiffion,  even 
in  thought.  The  proofs  of  the  juftice  of  a  par- 
ticular difpenfation,  indeed,  may  not,  and  often 
will  not  appear  ;  but  the  proofs,  that  all,  which 
is  done  by  God,  is  done  with  perfect  juftice,  are 
too  plain,  and  too  conclufive,  to  need  a  refutation. 


(     H     ) 

Scarcely  more  necefTary  is  it  to  mention  the 
amazing  importance  of  this  consideration.  The 
terrible  effects  of  injuftice,  even  in  an  earthly  rul- 
er, are  fo  dreaded  by  all  men,  as  to  create,  when- 
ever they  appear,  the  greateft.  agitation  and  dif- 
trefs.  No  human  convullions  have  more  fhaken, 
or  aftonifhed,  the  world  than  thofe,  which  have 
chiefly  originated  from  this  caufe.  Thrones  have 
been  fub verted,  rulers  deftroyed,  oceans  of  trea- 
fure  expended,  and  oceans  of  blood  poured  out, 
to  avert,  or  to  remedy,  the  evil. 

On  known  and  exact  juftice  all  men,  on  the 
contrary,  wholly  and  comfortably  rely  for  iuch 
deciiions  and  meafures,  as  are  moft  interefting  to 
their  wellbeing.  All  men  alfo,  who  are  not 
themfelves  unjuft,  acquiefce  in  fuch  meafures 
and  decifions,  as  are  feen  to  be  juft  ;  nor  can  a 
higher  commendation  be  given,  nor  a  more  im- 
portant duty  required  of  him,  who  ruleth  over 
men,  than  that  he  is,  or  mufi  be,  juft  ruling  in  the 
fear  of  God.  So  high  a  place,  indeed,  does  the 
virtue  of  juftice,  or  righteoufnefs,  hold,  that  it  is 
perhaps,  as  often  as  any  other,  made  to  ftand  as  a 
defcription  of  all  that  is  virtuous.  The  Text  is 
one  example,  and  the  pages  of  Scripture  teem  with 
innumerable  others. 

In  the  Infinite  Ruler  this  glorious  attribute 
claims  an  infinite  distinction.  From  all  the  in- 
juftice of  earthly  rulers,  as  well  as  from  private 
wrong,  there  is  beyond  the  grave,  a  final  appeal. 
There  a  tribunal  is  erected,  at  which,  there  a 
Judge  exifts,  before  whom,  every  wrong,  fuftered 
here,  will  be  redreiTed,  and  every  right  denied  or 
•wreftcd  here,  will  be  fecured.  Fraud  may  here 
plunder,  luft  pollute,  ambition  enflave,  and  cruel- 
ty torture  3  but  the  victim  will  there  find  a  com- 


(     '5    ) 

plete  remedy  for  his  wrongs,  and  an  ample  recom- 
penfe  rendered  into  the  bofom  of  his  enemies. 
The  poor,  the  deluded,  and  the  fuffering,  will 
there  be  glorioufly  exalted,  and  the  proud  man 
fall,  and  the  mighty  man  be  brought  low  before 
them .  This  is  the  final  folace  for  every  prefent 
wrong,  the  refuge,  the  home,  of  the  persecuted 
and  opprefled. 

But  from  that  tribunal  there  is  no  appeal. 
Whatever  decilions  are  there  given  will  be  ulti- 
mate decifions.  No  future,  wifer,  jufler  judge 
is  yet  behind,  to  revife  and  correct  the  errors 
there  committed,  or  to  redrefs  wrongs  there  in- 
flicted. Eternity  is  written  on  every  fen  ten  ce, 
and  immutability  inftamped  on  every  allotment. 
How  dreadful,  beyond  meafure,  in  thiscafe  would 
be  injuftice  ?  injustice  remedilefs  and  hopelefs  ? 
Through  what  a  duration  would  it  extend,  with 
what  knowledge  would  it  be  contrived,  with  what 
power  would  it  be  enforced  ?  The  Creation  would 
be  one  great  prifon,  clanking  with  the  chains,  and 
echoing  the  groans,  of  agony  and  defpair. 

Againft  all  thefe  wrongs,  againfh  every  wrong, 
all  creatures  are  by  the  perfect  juflice  of  God 
wholly  fecured.  The  Righteous,  particularly, 
neither  in  their  death,  nor  in  their  future  being, 
will  find  a  right  invaded,  or  an  injury  done.  The 
determinations  of  God  will  command  their  entire 
approbation,  and  reflect  the  highefr.  glory  on  his 
government.  To  all  that  he  orders,  and  to  all 
that  he  does,  Wifdom  and  Virtue  will  fubjoin 
their  folemn  Amen. 

4thly.  That  they  are  difpofed  of  with  wifdom. 

By  this  obfervation  I  intend,  that  in  the  difpofal 
of  the  righteous  valuable  ends  are  propofed  and  ac- 
complished.    No  caprice,  prejudice,  or  paffion, 


(     16    ) 

is  indulged  or  gratified.  On  the  contrary,  with 
a  complete  knowledge  of  all  that  is  practicable, 
neceffary,  or  deiirable,  and  a  difpofition  to  purfue 
that,  and  that  only,  which  is  mofl  defirable,  a 
plan  is  formed  and  purfued,  by  which,  in  the 
mofl  direct  manner,  the  purpofe  will  be  certainly 
brought  to  pafs. 

The  ends,  which  are  here  in  view,  fefpect  both 
the  individuals,  who  are  the  immediate  fubjects  of 
the  difpofal,  and  their  fellow  creatures,  and  un- 
doubtedly are  found  both  in  the  prefent  and  the 
future  world. 

We  are  not  ufually  able  to  trace  with  precifion 
the  ends,  which  are  by  thefe  difpenfations  to  be 
accomplifhed,  in  the  prefent  world  ;  yet  we  have 
fufficient  reafon  to  believe,  that  fuch  ends  are  re- 
ally in  view,  and  are  actually  accomplifhed,  All 
events,  here,  lead  to  thofe,  which  follow  them  ; 
and  they  to  others,  in  perpetual  progrefs.  In 
fome  cafes  we  are  able,  at  leafl  in  an  imperfect  de- 
gree, to  perceive  the  connection  and  defign.  This, 
however,  can  never  be  done,  until  the  events  re- 
ferred to,  have  taken  place.  The  forefight  of 
man  reaches  but  a  little  diflance,  and  that  diflance 
in  a  manner  very  imperfect.  Future  objects  are 
involved  in.  mift  and  obfeurity  ;  and  the  human 
eye,  when  it  fees  them  at  all,  fees  them  in  delu- 
iive  colours,  and  of  forms  and  fizes,  which  mock 
detection,  and  elude  inquiry. 

The  wifdom,  virtue,  friendfhip,  instructions, 
and  example,  of  a  righteous  man  obvioufly  pro- 
duce, after  his  deceafe,  greater  effects  on  thofe, 
whom  he  leaves  behind  him,  in  many  inftances 
at  leaft,  than  the  fame  caufes  produced,  when  he 
was  living.  Dying  words  are  always  affecting 
words  ;  and  the  instructions  of  a  righteous  man, 


(     *7     ) 

who  has  left  the  world,  poflefs  the  character,  arid 
the  power,  of  dying  words.  They  are  remem- 
bered with  more  care  and  folemnity,  and  felt  with 
greater  force,  than  when  he  was  alive.  When 
he  was  prefent  and  acting  with  us,  when  his  in- 
terefts  at  times  clafhed,  or  were  thought  to  clafh, 
with  ours,  when  by  his  example  he  caft  a  made 
on  our  conduct  and  character,  and  when  with  his 
voice  he  reproved  and  reftrained  our  faults,  we 
naturally  became  impatient,  cool,  unfriendly,  and 
prejudiced.  His  worth  in  our  minds  was  lefTen- 
ed,  or  denied ;  his  inftructions  doubted  and  difre- 
garded  -,  and  his  perfon  viewed  with  difiike,  and 
even  with  malignity.  But  when  he  is  gone,  our 
prejudices  ceafe.  We  call  to  mind  his  excellen- 
cies with  a  more  candid  fpirit,  and  view  his  con- 
duct without  the  intervention  offelfiih  interests. 
Many  things,  which  in  his  life  he  faid,  and  did, 
and  which  were  then  unfavourably  received  by  us, 
are  now  acknowledged  to  be  true,  juft,  and 
important.  His  whole  character  becomes  thus 
more  amiable  and  excellent  in  our  view,  and  com- 
mands more  extenfively  our  reverence  and  imita- 
tion. From  one  righteous  man  the  traniition  is 
eafy  to  others,  and  to  all ;  and  from  them  our  re- 
fpect  is  naturally  extended  to  their  diftinguifhing 
attribute.  Righteoufnefs,  which  makes  them  the 
peculiar  objects  of  our  regard,  becomes  itfelf  more 
valuable  in  our  eyes  ;  and  gives  birth  to  a  train  of 
fentiments  in  our  minds,  which  not  unfrequently 
grow  into  reformation  and  excellence  of  life. 

This  is  but  one  of  the  numerous  important  ends^ 
accompliihed  in  this  world  by  the  removal  of  the 
righteous.  Not  unfrequently  are  they  removed 
from  this  world,  that  they  may  be  taken  away 
from  the  evil  to  come.     From  (in  and  temptati* 

G 


(     18     ) 

on,  from  toil  and  for  row,  from  the  degeneracy  of 
their  children  and  the  miferies  of  their  friends, 
from  the  fufferings  of  their  country  and  the  per- 
fecution  of  the  church  of  Chrifl,  a  deliverance  un- 
fpeakably  defirable  is  granted  to  them  by  the  in- 
finitely merciful  God.  Their  bodies  reft  from 
their  labours  in  the  peaceful  grave,  and  their  fpi- 
rits,  afcending  to  the  manfions  of  eternal  quiet, 
gain  a  fimib.r  releafe  from  the  bondage  of  fin. 
From  every  ibare,  and  every  enemy,  they  finally 
efcape,  and  calumny,  injuftice,  and  envy,  follow 
them  with  eyes  vainly  malignant,  and  with  curfes 
that  roar  unheard  and  unregarded. 

When  perfons  of  high  eminence  for  talents  and 
virtue  have  long  acted  a  confpicuous  part  on  the 
ftage  of  life,  and  appear  to  be  necefFary  to  the  well- 
being  of  mankind,  God  not  unfrequently  intends, 
when  he  calls  them  away,  to  fhew  the  furviving 
world,  that  he  is  perfectly  able  to  carry  on  the 
defigns  of  his  providence  without  their  agency. 
The  importance  of  individuals  to  the  fyflem  of 
things  rifes,  at  times,  too  high  in  the  public  efti- 
mation,  and  prompts  us  to  forget  the  all-fuffici- 
ency  of  God,  in  the  flrong  fenfe  we  entertain  of 
the  excellence  of  men.  This,  though  a  natural, 
is  an  unhappy  error,  and  is  often  belt  eradicated 
by  the  removal  of  thofe,  who  have  innocently  and 
virtuoufly  contributed  to  its  exiflence. 

In  many  inftances  he  teaches  us  in  an  affecting 
manner,  that  we  have  regarded  the  deccafed  with 
affections  undue  and  unwarrantable.  Good  men 
can  be  loved  too  much.  Among  the  numberlefs 
idols  of  the  human  heart,  they,  not  unfrequently, 
find  a  place.  To  love  them  is  felt  to  be  juftina- 
ble,  and  known  to  be  commanded.  The  mind, 
CQnfcious  of  rectitude  in  this  indulgence  of  affec- 


(     *9     ) 

tion,  is  frequently  inattentive  to  the  danger  of  in- 
dulging it  to  excels.  A  darling  child,  a  venerat- 
ed parent,  a  beloved  hulband,  or  wife,  fteals,  in- 
feniibly,  the  heart  from  God  ;  and  often  renders 
the  return  difficult,  perhaps  impomble,  without 
a  removal  of  the  idolized  object. 

At  the  fame  time  the  contrary  evil  is  not  lefs 
frequent,  or  unhappy.  The  value  of  righteous 
men  is  often  unfeen,  neglected,  and  defpifed  ;  their 
fervices  are  requited  with  obloquy  and  unkind- 
nefs  ;  and  their  perfons  are  made  the  objects  of 
hatred,  abufe,  and  perfecution.  No  inhabitant  of 
Sodom  was  probably  lefs  efteemed,  or  befriended, 
than  Lot  ;  and  no  Ifraelite  of  his  time  than  Eli- 
jah. From  men  thus  difpofed  the  righteous  are 
removed,  in  judgment.  Nor  is  the  judgment  lefs, 
becaufeitis  unregarded,  or  regarded  with  pleafjre. 
The  death  of  a  good  man,  which  is  considered  by 
us  as  a  benefit,  will  on  that  account  prove  the 
more  certainly  a  curfe.  The  hardnefs  of  heart, 
which  is  thus  manifefled,  is  of  all  curfes  the  morr. 
dreadful,  and  by  the  very  event,  which  excites  our 
pleafure,  is  furely  and  dreadfully  increafed. 

This  detail  might  be  eafily  extended  beyond  the 
limits  of  your  patience.  The  inilances  already 
mentioned  are  furlicient  to  illuftrate  the  point  in 
difcuffion. 

Of  the  particular  ends,  designed  at  in  the  fu- 
ture world,  by  the  removal  of  good  men  from  this, 
we  know  nothing.  A  general  exhibition,  only, 
is  made  to  us  in  the  fcriptures,  of  the  ilate  of  be- 
ing beyond  the  grave.  From  this  we  are  allured, 
that  their  tranllation  to  that:  world  is  intended  to 
accomplilh  purpofes,  in  the  higheit  degree  impor- 
tant and  delirable.  None,  there,  are  idle,  or  ufe- 
lefs ;  but  all  are  far  more  active,  able,  aud  ufeful* 


(       2°       ) 

than  they  could  have  been  here.  Superiour  pow- 
ers, directed  to  fublimer  objects,  and  actuated  by 
more  excellent  difpoiitions,  are  there  engaged  in 
nobler  exertions,  and  more  dignified  employments. 
To  thefe  exertions,  and  employments,  they  are  di- 
rectly fummoned  by  their  Maker,  and  enter  upon 
a  career  of  more  diftinguifhed  ufefulnefs  to  them- 
felves,  their  fellow  creatures,  and  their  God,  which 
will  know  no  end. 

5.  That  they  are  difpofed  of  with  kindnefs  and 
mercy. 

We  know,  faith  the  Apoltle,  that  all  things  do 
work  (or  labour)  together,  for  good  to  them  that 
love  God  -,  to  them  who  are  the  called,  according 
to  his  purpofe.  This  is  the  end  of  the  united 
labours  of  all  beings,  and  all  events,  of  God,  and 
of  good  and  evil  beings  in  his  creation.  In  the 
hands  of  a  Being,  who  has  contrived,  and  who  is 
directing,  all  things  for  this  glorious  end,  thofe 
who  love  him  cannot  but  find  unfpeakable  good 
will  manifefted  in  every  employment,  and  in  eve- 
ry concern. 

From  this  world  of  toil,  of  forrow,  and  of  fin, 
they  are  removed  forever.  No  more  fhall  their 
ftrength  be  wailed  by  wearinefs,  their  health  im- 
paired by  langour  and  pain,  or  their  comfort  and 
peace  deftroyed  by  enemies  and  dangers.  No  more 
ihall  their  eyes  be  pained  by  the  light  of  families 
corrupted,  perverfe,  and  hopelefs  -y  of  friends  ali- 
enated from  God,  religion,  and  life  ;  and  of  a 
world  in  guilt  and  ruin.  No  more  (hall  they  be 
called  to  war  with  luft,  to  flruggle  with  tempta- 
tion, or  to  endure  the  fiings  of  fcorn,  the  ihafts  of 
malice,  or  the  iron  hand  of  oppreilion.  Their 
hearts  fhall  no  more  be  wounded  by  confcious 
guilt,  and  /hameful  backfliding.    When  they  take 


(       21        ) 

their  flight  from  this  great  prifon,  they  will  bid  a 
final  adieu  to  every  enemy  and  evil,  and  fee  the 
diftance  between  themielves  and  their  enemies 
widening  forever.  Toil,  pain,  forrow,  fear,  and 
death,  time,  temptation,  and  fin,  recede  from  their 
flight,  and  the  tumult  roar,  and  rage,  behind  them 
in  vain. 

In  the  mean  time  theyafcend  to  God,  and  re- 
turn to  their  final  home.  In  his  children  they 
find  none  but  friends,  from  his  hand  no  commu- 
nication but  of  love,  and  in  his  houfe  nothing  but 
joy.  With  expanded  minds,  and  purified  hearts, 
with  Strength  incapable  of  decay,  and  activity  fu- 
periour  to  fatigue,  they  enter  on  acourfe  of  enjoy- 
ment perpetually  enlarging.  Ranfomed  of  the 
Lord,  returned  and  come  to  Zion  with  fongs  and 
everlafting  joy  upon  their  heads,  they  are  acknow- 
ledged as  fons,  and  kings,  and  priefts,  to  God  the 
Father,  and  live  and  reign  with  him  forever  and 
ever. 

Thofe,  whom  they  leave  behind  them,  will,  if 
informed  with  the  evangelical  fpirit,  and  regarding 
the  folemn  difpenfation  with  attentive  wifdom, 
mare  in  the  kindnefs,  of  which  their  deceafed 
friends  fo  largely  partake. 

The  grave  of  a  good  man  is  one  of  the  moil  in- 
structive of  all  earthly  objects.  We  there  behold 
the  end  of  the  courfe  even  of  virtuous  life;  of  wif- 
dom as  well  as  of  ambition  ;  of  worth  as  well  as  of 
wickednefs.  The  humble  origin  of  man  is  there 
traced  in  our  kindred  to  corruption,  to  worms, 
and  to  duft.  There  we  fummon  up  to  folemn 
view  the  trials,  the**  labours,  and  the  excellencies 
of  him  who  is  gone  ;  the  patience  with  which  he 
bore  affliction,  the  fortitude  with  which  he  en- 
dured danger,  the  refolution  wkh  which  he  fur- 


(   22   ) 

mounted  difficulties  and  vanquished  enemies,  the 
peace  with  which  he  heightened  enjoyment,  the 
iaith  with  which  he  quickened  diligence,  the  hope 
which  gleamed  through  the  gloom  of  defpond- 
ency,  and  the  prayers  which  invoked  and  drew 
down  from  heaven  the  fupporting  energy  of  the 
Infinite  Spirit.  What  objects  can  fointereft,  en- 
lighten, quicken,  and  fuftain  ?  In  what  other 
place  can  thefe  pofTefs  equal  influence  ? 

From  this  affecting  fcene  we  alfo  lift  our  eyes 
.to  the  diftant,  invifible  world,  and  trace  our  de- 
parted friend  far  on  his  final  and  glorious  flight, 
hardening  to  the  endlefs  reward  of  all  his  labours, 
fufferings,  and  virtues.  We  fee  him  efcaped  from 
every  danger,  and  victorious  over  every  enemy. 
The  conflict  is  paffed  ;  the  day  is  won  -y  and  the 
palm  of  eternal  triumph  awarded. 

Here,  more  than  in  any  other  place,  we  learn  fo 
to  ftruggle,  endure,  and  overcome.  Here  we  learn 
to  lean  upon  the  God,  on  whom  he  has  leaned, 
and  to  trufl  in  the  Saviour,  in  whom  he  has  truft- 
ed  ;  to  defpife  the  world,  which  he  has  proved  to 
be  vanity,  and  to  feek  the  inheritance,  which,  end- 
lefs and  fincere,  he  has  fought,  and  obtained.  In 
a  word,  heavenly  mindednefs,  the  ornament  and 
beauty  of  virtue,  is  a  plant,  which  eminently  flou- 
rifhes  and  blofibms  around  the  grave  of  a  righte- 
ous man. 

To  the  affecting  occafion,  which  has  called  us 
together,  thefe  obfervations  are  fo  naturally  appli- 
ed, that  my  audience  have  probably  anticipated 
me  in  making  the  application.  We  are  called  to- 
gether, my  friends  and  brethren,  to  follow  to  the 
houfe,  appointed  for  all  living,  a  wife  and  righte- 
ous man.  In  his  death  each  of  us  finds  an  affect- 
ing concern.     To  one  is  mofl.flrongly  prefented 


(      23      ) 

the  image  of  a  departed  friend ;  to  another  of  a 
departed  minifter.  One  will  moft  deeply  regret 
an  obliging  neighbour,  another  a  prudent  coun- 
fellour,  a  third  a  loft  benefactor,  and  a  fourth  a 
fpiritual  guide.  All  naturally  form  their  claims 
upon  the  preacher  -,  and  their  claims  he  feels  and 
acknowledges.  The  demand  is  too  juft,  and  the 
occalion  too  affecting,  to  be  unfelt  by  any  heart, 
not  wholly  unacquainted  with  feeling. 

Among  thofe,  who  are  moft  deeply  concerned 
in  the  departure  of  the  Deceafed,  the  furviving 
Family  claim  our  firft  regard.  To  them  he  flood 
in  moft  of  the  important  relations,  in  which  he 
is  remembered  by  others  ;  and  in  fome,  in  which 
he  was  known  to  them  only  ;  relations  peculi- 
arly important  and  endearing.  To  them,  there- 
fore, to  the  bereaved  widow,  and  her  mourning 
children,  to  the  brethren,  lifters,  and  other  near 
relatives,  let  me  firft  addrefs  the  inftructions  and 
confolations  of  the  text. 

While  you,  Madam,  your  Children,  and  your 
near  Connections,  are  mourning  the  lofs  of  this 
beloved  Friend,  to  you  and  your  children  the  beft 
of  all  friends,  God  only  excepted  ;  while  your  more 
diftant  Connections  around  you  ftand  uniting  their 
forrows  with  yours,  and  mingling  with  your  tears 
their  own  tears  of  fympathy  -,  let  me,  whole  of- 
fice it  now  is,  attempt  to  adminifter  to  you,  and  to 
your  fellow  mourners,  fuch  confolations,  as  your 
diftreiTes  will  permit.  Imperfect  they  may  be  -, 
but  they  may  ftill  be  found  of  real  ufe. 

The  heart,  when  lorely  wounded,  is,  I  am  well 
aware,  ready  to  revolt  at  the  thought  even  of  con- 
folation.  In  fuch  a  cafe,  the  words  of  Thomas 
are  but  too  naturally  adopted,  "  Let  us  go  alfo, 
that  we  may  die  with  him."     Still  the  fcriptures 


(       24       ) 

furniSh  comfort  in  every  diftrefs.  The  confolati- 
ons,  which  they  give,  are  the  confolations  of  God, 
,who  knows  perfectly  the  nature  of  the  wound 
which  he  has  made,  and  who,  in  his  Word,  has 
mercifully  provided  a  balfam  to  affuage  its  an- 
guifh.  Be  mine  the  tafk  to  point  it  out  to  you, 
to  induce  you  to  ufe  it,  and  to  aid  you  to  poffefs 
yourfelves  of  its  healing  power. 

To  this  purpofe  no  considerations  are,  unlefs  I 
greatly  miftake,  more  naturally,  or  effectually  a^ 
dapted,  than  thofe  fuggefled  by  the  text.  When 
events  deeply  and  forely  affect  us,  it  is  no  fmall 
fupport  fully  to  realize,  that  they  are  contrived, 
chofen,  and  accomplished,  by  the  infinite  God  $ 
that,  though  mySterious  in  themfelves  to  fuch 
fhortiighted  creatures  as  we  are,  though  contrary 
to  our  wishes  and  expectations  alike,  and  though 
oppofed  to  all  which  we  mould  think  proper  to 
be  done,  there  is  Still  in  them  nothing  of  chance, 
of  caprice,  or  of  enmity  to  us.  The  consideration 
rifes  flill  higher,  and  our  fupport  becomes  frill 
ftronger,  when  we  call  to  mind,  that  this  defign 
and  its  accomplishment  are  directed  by  perfect  e- 
quity  ;  and  that  the  difpenfation,  when  Scrutiniz- 
ed by  the  flricteSl  eye,  mufl  be  approved  of  as 
perfectly  right.  Still  more  pleafingly  mult  we 
be  affected,' when  we  remember,  that  confummate 
Wifdom  conducted  the  event,  purfued  import- 
ant ends,  and  felected  this  as  a  neceSTary  mean  of 
promoting  them  ;  and  that  fuch  ends  may  be  re- 
alized by  ourfelves,  if  we  wait  with  patience,,  ex- 
amine with  care,  and  act  with  wifdom  and  piety. 
But  our  confolation  will  be  moSt.  effectually  found, 
when  we  further  remember,  that  the  fame  event 
is  the  fruit  of  infinite  kindnefs  and  mercy  to  bur* 
felves  and  ours. 


(     *5     ) 

All  thefe  fupporting  confiderations  attend  the 
death  of  a  righteous  man,  and  all  the  circumftan- 
ces  of  his  death.  It  may  be  f  udden,  awful  and 
peculiarly  painful  to  the  human  eye.  He  may 
die,  far  from  his  family  and  friends  ;  and  they 
may  be  prevented  of  the  power,  and  fruftrated  of 
the  wifh,  to  attend  him  in  the  laft  moments,  and 
to  do  for  him  the  laft  kind  offices.  All  thefe  are 
unavoidably  diftreffing  to  us  j  but  every  one  of 
them,  however  unaccountable  it  may  feem,  is 
contrived  and  executed  by  God  with  entire  wif- 
dom,  juftice,  kin4nefs,  and  mercy.  The  Lord 
doth  not  willingly  afflict  the  children  of  men  ; 
but,  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  fo  the  Lord 
pitieth  them  that  fear  him. 

Say  not  then*  my  fuffering  friends,  that  your 
cup  is  filled  with  bitternefs  only.  Bitter  indeed 
it  is,  but  it  is  ftill  fweetened  with  mercy.  Think 
what  would  be  your  fituation,  if  you  wTere  now 
mourning,  as  thofe  mourn,  who  have  no  hope. 
Call  up  to  view  the  image  of  a  gracelefs  hufband, 
of  an  unprincipled  father,  of  an  abandoned  bro- 
ther, and  compare  it  with  the  character  of  him 
whom  you  have  loft.  How  affecting  the  contrail  ? 
How  incalculably  different  might  your  fituation 
have  been  ;  how  unfpeakably  more  pungent  and 
agonizing  your  forrows  ?  In  your  remembrance 
nothing  riles,  but  the  prudence,  the  care,  the  in- 
ftruction,  the  kindnefs,  of  the  friend,  the  father, 
and  the  hufband  -y  the  wifdom,  the  piety,  and  the 
dignity,  of  the  chriftian,  and  the  minifter.  What 
a  train  is  here  prefented  to  the  mind  ?  Who, 
when  called  to  mourn,  would  not  choofe  fo  to 
mourn  ? 

All  this,  you  will  inftinctively  anfwer,  is  a  mere 
defcription  of  the  greatnefs  of  our  lofs.     Let  me 

D 


(     26     ) 

reply,  Could  you  wifh  the  cafe  otherwife  ?  Could 
you  at  this  moment  be  willing,  that  one  virtue 
lefs,  or  in  any  lefs  degree,  had  entered  into  the 
character  of  the  deceafed  ? 

In  the  mean  time,  let  me  exhort  you  not  to 
forget  bleiiings,  becaufe  they  are  paft.  How  much 
longer  than  the  common  lot  have  you  enjoyed  the 
prefence,  inftructions,  and  kind  offices  of  the  de- 
ceafed ?  How  long  has  he  formed,  and  increafed, 
conjugal  happinefs  ;  trained  up  his  children  in  the 
nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord ;  commanded 
liis  houfhold  to  follow  after  f^od  ;  and  walked 
exemplarily  before  them  in  the  ftatutes  and  ordi- 
nances of  the  Redeemer  ?  How  long,  how  faith- 
fully, and  how  uniformly,  has  he  exhibited  the 
benevolence  of  a  friend,  and  a  brother  ?  Forget 
not,  in  the  height  of  your  affliction,  fuch  blemngs 
as  thefe.  Forget  not,  that  they  came  from  the 
fame  God,  who  has  now  called  you  to  forrow  and 
tears. 

Let  me  alfo  exhort  you  afFectingly  to  remember 
all  thofe  amiable  things  in  the  deceafed,  whofe 
value  you  declare  by  the  forrow,  with  which  you 
lament  the  lofs  of  them,  and  to  remember  them 
as  motives,  as  guides,  and  as  an  example,  all 
prompting  you  to  purfue  the  fame  defirable  con- 
duct. "  Co  thou,  and  do  likewife,"  is  the  in- 
struction, which  mould  clofe  the  account,  and  the 
remembrance,  of  every  virtuous  example.  An  ex- 
ample fo  near,  fo  beloved,  cannot  want  motives  to 
enforce  it.  All  the  juft,  important,  evangelical 
things,  which  the  friend  whom  you  mourn  hag 
faid,  and  done,  will  now,  as  they  rife  in  your  view, 
appear  invefted  with  a  new  force  and  folemnity. 
/  will  come  as  inftructions  from  the  invifible 
Tvorlii,  and  as  an  example  from  beyond  the  grave. 


(       27       ) 

In  this  affecting  character  let  them  be  heard,  reve- 
renced and  obeyed. 

Commending  you  now  to  God,  and  to  the  word 
of  his  grace,  which  is  able  to  build  you  up,  and  to 
give  you  an  inheritance  among  all  them  that  are 
fanctifled,  fuffer  me  to  direct  my  attention  to  the 
Congregation,  over  which  the  deceafed  has  fo  long 
prefided  as  a  Minifler  of  Chrift. 

My  friends  and  brethren,  you  are  bereaved  of  a 
friend,  connected  with  you  in  a  relation,  which  is 
plainly  one  of  the  neareft  and  moft  important  in 
the  prefent  world.  With  the  manner  in  which 
he  has  fuftained  this  relation,  and  difcharged  the 
duties  of  it,  to  you,  I  am  not,  though  a  ftranger 
to  you,  wholly  unacquainted.  From  his  preach- 
ing and  converfation,  and  from  the  information  of 
others,  I  know  him  to  have  adopted  the  doctrines 
of  grace ;  doctrines  acknowledged  as  the  true  doct- 
rines of  Chrift  by  the  great  body  of  thofe,  who, 
in  every  age  and  country,  have  been  efteemed  or- 
thodox Chriftians.  In  accordance  with  thefe 
doctrines  he  looked  for  falvation  for  himfelf,  his 
family,  and  his  flock.  Thefe  were  the  object  of 
his  unfhaken  attachment,  and  the  fubject  of  his 
fervent  exhortations  ;  were  extenfively  underftood 
by  him,  and  ably  defended.  In  thefe  he  lived, 
and  in  thefe  he  died. 

From  his  mouth  you  have  heard  them  weekly, 
and  I  need  not  tell  you,  with  what  ability,  learn- 
ing, fervour,  and  uniformity,  fet  forth  in  full  dif- 
play  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  miniftry. 
In  conformity  to  thefe  doctrines  you  have. ever 
been  called  to  Faith  and  Repentance  in  the  Lord 
Jefus  Chrift,  and  to  the  Love  of  God  and  man- 
kind. You  have  been  taught,  that  man  is  a  de- 
praved and  ruined  creature,  condemned  by  the. law. 


(     28     ) 

of  God,  and  with  no  means  of  return,  or  reconci- 
liation, in  himfelf ;  that  in  Chrift  alone  is  your 
hope  for  forgivenefs,  acceptance,  and  eternal  life  ; 
that  your  falvation  is  a  reward  not  of  works,  but 
of  the  grace  of  God ;  that  the  faith  of  the  Gofpel  is 
Faith  which  worketh  by  love,  purifieth  the  heart, 
and  produceth  every  good  fruit ;  and  that  by  this 
Faith  alone  you  are  united  to  Chrift,  and  intereft- 
ed  in  the  bleffings  of  his  redemption . 

Ail  thefe  are  doctrines  humbling  to  human 
pride,  and  wounding  to  human  obftinacy.  They 
lay  man  low  at  the  footftool  of  divine  mercy,  and 
unclothe  him  of  that  felf  righteoufnefs,  which  he 
thinks  his  ornament  and  glory,  -but  which  is  in- 
deed a  garment  of  rags,  and  a  wreath  of  fhame. 
Nor  lefs  alarming  are  they  to  the  fears,  than  hum- 
bling to  the  pride,  of  linners.  That  quiet  and 
fecurity,  in  which  a  hard  heart  and  a  ftupid  mind 
love  to  reft,  they  difturb  and  deftroy  -,  and  pre- 
fent  to  impenitence  nothing  but  danger,  terror, 
and  death. 

Men  who  love  to  be  at  eafe  in  Zion,  and  who 
cherifh  the  pride  and  pleafure  of  felf  righteoufnefs, 
are  ufually  enemies  to  the  doctrines,  which  I 
have  mentioned.  While  thefe  doctrines,  and  the 
preachers  of  them,  are  a  favour  of  life  unto 
life  to  them  who  are  faved,  they  are  alfo  a  fa- 
vour of  death  unto  death  to  them  that  periih. 
To  many  of  the  Congregation  in  this  town,  both 
living  and  dead,  they  have  doubtlefs  proved  the 
means  of  life  ;  to  ibme,  perhaps,  they  have  ferv- 
ed  only  as  means  of  awakening  refentmCnt,  oppo- 
sition, hardnefs  of  heart,  and  final  unbelief. 

According  to  thefe  doctrines  the  deceafed  lived; 
before  you  ;  daily  exemplifying  their  influence  on 
his  faith,  and  on  his  conduct.  The  example, 
which  he  fet,  was  the  example  of  prudence,  dill- 


(       29       ) 

gence,  truth,  juftice,  kindnefs,  and  godlinefs.  In 
all  the  relations  of  life  he  mewed,  that  he  believ- 
ed and  lived,  as  he  urged  you  to  believe  and  live* 
You  know,  though  I  am  ignorant,  whether  you 
received  his  words,  as  the  words  of  a  friend  and  a 
minifter  of  Chrift,  or  whether  he  has  all  the  day 
long  flretched  out  his  hands  to  a  gainfaying  and 
difobedient  people.  Search  your  hearts,  and  en- 
quire what  is  the  account,  which  you  will  foon 
be  obliged  to  give. 

He  is  now  gone  ;  gone  to  the  world  of  depart- 
ed fpirits  j  gone,  we  trull,  to  receive  the  appro- 
bation of  his  Lord,  and  the  reward  of  a  faithful 
fervant.  He  is  removed  from  your  efteem,  your 
love,  your  kind  offices,  your  communion  and  your 
knowledge.  At  the  fame  time  he  is  placed  be- 
yond the  reach  of  your  refentment,  oppolition,  and 
unkindnefs.  Intercourfe  between  you  and  him. 
has,  in  this  world,  ceafed  forever.  But  let  me 
exhort  you  to  remember,  that  you  will  meet  again, 
and  at  the  clofe  of  a  little  period  will  ftand  face  to 
face.  Both  he  and  you  will  be  called  to  give  an 
account  of  his  miniftry,  and  the  manner  in  which 
it  was  received  by  you  ;  of  what  you  believed,  and 
what  you  practifed.  You  will  then  meet  with 
other  views,  and  other  feelings,  than  ,fome,  which 
you  have  been  wont  to  experience  here.  Here 
many  interefts,  aims,  purfuits,  prejudices,  and  paf- 
fions,  of  this  world  have  occupied  your  minds, 
and  greatly  coloured  and  obfcured  your  views  of 
future  things.  But  eternity  will  then  have  be- 
gun to  you,  and  all  thefe  earthly  things  will  have 
difappeared.  Paflion  and  prejudice  will  then  have 
ceafed  to  operate,  and  truth  naked  and  entire  will 
be  brought  out  to  view. 

At  that  time,  thole  of  you,  who  have  cordially 
received  frojn  his  lips  the  in  ft  met  ions  of  righte- 


(     3°     ) 

oufnefs,  will  meet  him  with  joy.  His  witnefs 
will  redound  to  your  everlafting  happinefs,  and  . 
yours  will  be  to  him  a  crown  of  glory.  He  will 
blefs  God  for  giving  you  to  him  as  a  diadem  of 
beauty,  as  an  everlafting  crown  which  mall  never 
fade  away  -,  and  you  will  blefs  the  fame  God  for 
giving  him  to  you,  as  a  minifter  of  righteoufnefs, 
and  the  means  of  your  falvation.  What  a  meet- 
ing will  this  be  ?  What  a  progrefs  will  be  made 
in  friendfhip  thus  begun,  a  friendihip  to  be  en- 
larged and  improved  through  an  endlefs  duration  ? 
How  different  will  be  the  interview  between 
him  and  thofe  of  you,  fhould  any  fuch  be  found, 
who  have  rejected  his  words  of  truth  ?  Are  you 
prepared  to  alledge,  before  his  Judge  and  yours,. 
the  reafons  which  induced  you,  when  he  called, 
to  refufe;  and,  when  he  ftretched  out  his  hand,  to 
difregard  ;  to  fet  at  nought  his  counfel,  and  to 
receive  none  of  his  reproof.  Are  you  ready  to 
declare  to  your  Judge,,  that  you  hated  his  truth, 
kingdom,  and  character,  defpifed  his  grace,  griev- 
ed his  fpirit,  accounted  the  blood  of  the  covenant 
an  unholy  thing,  and  crucified  afrefh  the  Lord  of 
glory  by  your  unbelief  ?  Soon  will  you  follow 
him  to  the  grave,  and  be  numbered,  as  he  is,  with 
the  dead.  Soon  will  you  ftand  before  God,  and 
give  an  account  of  every  work  done  in  the  body, 
with  every  fecret  thing,  whether  it  be  good,  or 
whether  it  be  evil.  This,  of  all  confiderations 
the  moft  affecting,  the  moft  amazing,  can  never 
be  more  properly  urged,  or  more  happily  realiz- 
ed, than  on  the  prefent  occafion.  Let  it  not  pais 
without  fome  lafting  good  to  you.  Think,  I  be- 
feech  you,  how  foon  you  are  going — to  whom — 
on  what  errand — with  what  preparation — to  what 
end. 


(     3'     ) 

You  have  loft  a  minifter,  long  fettled  over  you 
in  the  things  of  the  Lord.  Many  of  you  know 
not  by  experience  either  the  difficulties,  or  the 
dangers,  of  fuch  a  fituation.  Mofl  of  you  have 
arrived  at  manhood  fince  he  commenced  his  min- 
iftry  ;  many  of  you  have  been  born  lince  that  pe- 
riod ;  and  not  a  few  have  been  baptized  by  his 
hand.  In  this  fituation  fuffer  a  friend  to  you,  and 
to  your  children,  to  fuggeft  to  you  a  few  intereft- 
ing  truths. 

In  former  years  you  have  been  happily  united  ; 
within  a  period  of  moderate  length,  I  have  been 
informed,  your  union  has  been  lefs  perfect:  ;  in 
your  prefent  ftate  it  may  become  lefs  perfecl:  ftill. 
A  variety  of  caufes,  incapable  of  being  forefeen  by 
men,  may  lead  a  flock,  without  a  fhepherd,  to 
fcatter  and  to  ftray.  But  if  difunited,  you  can  be 
neither  virtuous  nor  happy. 

To  prevent  this  fore  evil,  let  me,  not  wholly 
unexperienced  in  cafes  of  this  nature,  exhort  you 
to  mark  any,  who  may  attempt  to  caufe  diviiions 
among  you,  and  to  avoid  them.  Cultivate,  with 
fedulous  care,  peace  and  good  will  in  your  neigh- 
bourhoods. In  all  your  affairs  conduct  yourfelves 
with  calmnefs,  with  deliberation,  without  paffion, 
and  without  hafte.  Shun  hard  fpeeches.  Watch, 
with  alarm,  the  beginnings  of  party  fpirit  $  and 
remember,  that  the  fruit  of  righteoufnefs  is  fowrt 
in  peace,  of  them  that  make  peace. 

Carefully  regulate  your  families,  and  punctual- 
ly preferve  your  family  worfhip.  Train  up  your 
children  for  God,  and  walk  before  them  in  all  the 
commandments  and  ordinances  of  the  Lord  blame- 
lefs.  Make  your  houfes  houfes  of  God,  and  your 
families  families  of  piety,  peace,  and  love.  As 
your  public  privileges  are  leffe ned,  prize  your  pri- 
vate ones  more. 


(      32      ) 

Continue  the  public  worfhip  of  God  among 
you,  without  ceafing,  and  begin  not  a  neglect  of 
the  Sabbath  by  (hutting  the  doors  of  his  houfe. 
Inattention  will  foon  grow  into  negligence,  negli- 
gence will  foon  be  confirmed  into  a  habit,  and 
that  habit  will  foon  become  an  evil  which  cannot 
be  cured. 

Recal  to  mind,  as  far  as  you  can,  the  juft  and 
evangelical  things,  which  from  time  to  time  have 
been  faid  to  you  by  your  deceafed  paflor  -,  lay 
them  up  in  your  hearts,  and  practife  them  in 
your  lives. 

As  fpeedily  as  you  can,  reeftablifh  among  you 
the  miniftry  of  the  Gofpel.  Seek  an  evangeli- 
cal minifter,  who  will  not  fhun  to  declare  to  you 
all  the  counfel  of  God.  Such  an  one  will,  in- 
deed, declare  to  you  many  painful  and  humiliating 
things  j  but  they  will  ftil'l  be  the  things  of  God, 
and  will  make  you  and  yours  wife  unto  falvation. 

In  your  clofets  afk  daily  of  God  his  direction 
and  blefling.  Prayer,  offered  with  iincerity  and 
faith,  was  never  offered  in  vain.  If  you  will  thus 
afk,  he  will  give,  and  give  liberally  without  up- 
braiding. 

Finally,  my  beloved  brethren,  be  ye  ftedfafl, 
unmoveable,  always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the 
Lord ;  and  remember,  that  your  labour  fhall  not 
be  in  vain  in  the  Lord. 

3.  Let  me  now  addrefs  the  fubject  to  the  Mi- 
nifters  of  Chrift  who  are  prefent. 

My  beloved  brethren,  a  great  man  is  fallen  in 
our  Ifrael  to  day  ;  a  man  of  diftinguifhed  learning 
and  underftanding,  of  unufual  prudence,  and  of 
-  lingular  fkill  and  experience  in  the  concerns  of 
congregations,  churches,  and  minifters.  Recom- 
mended by  tried  wifdom,  he  was,  as  you  well 


(     33     ) 

know,  very  extenfively  employed,  and  confided  iri 
by  both  minifter  and  people,  throughout  the  ftate. 
By  both  were  his  ufeful  labours  acknowledged  in 
compofing  their  differences,  and  directing  their 
interests.      To  you,    to  me,  to  all  with  whom 
he  was  connected,  the  lofs  is  great  and  affecting. 
In  the  congregations,  in  the  churches,  and  efpe- 
cially  in  the  Univerfity,  of  this  ftate,  every  weigh- 
ty concern  will  remind  us  of  his  important  fervi- 
ces,  and  force  us  to  feel  what  we  have  loft.    His 
talents  were  not  only  great  and  distinguished,  but 
they  were  alfo  of  that  moft  ufeful  kind,  which  we 
call  practical.     Such  talents  are  eminently  fitted 
for  the  fervice  of  God,  and  for  ulefulnefs  to  man- 
kind.    In  whatever  he  was  called  to  judge,  or 
act,  he  made  it  his  firft  bufinefs  thoroughly  to  ex- 
amine, and  fully  to  understand*    This  he  accom- 
plished by  diligent  fcrutiny,  clofe  attention  to  both 
fides  of  difputable  points,  a  careful  inveftigatiOn  of 
principles,  and  a  cautious  confideration  of  confe- 
quences.  For  this  important  bufinefs  his  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  human  character  qualified  him 
in  an  eminent  degree,  as  did  alfo  his  ftrong  pow- 
ers of  judging,  and  his  peculiar  coolnefs  and  felf 
poffefiion.    Not  lefs  important  were  his  attention, 
patience,  and  perfeverance,  in  investigating.     In 
thefe  moft  ufeful  things  he  was  at  once  an  emi- 
nent blefling  to  mankind,   and  a  moft  profitable 
example  to  us.     No  man  living  probably  fo  well 
understood,  the  interests  of  our  Univerfity,  or  for 
more  than  twenty  years  took  fo  active  and  import- 
ant a  part  in  its  concerns.     Few  fo  well  knew 
the  jinterefts  of  our  churches,  or  fo  ably  and  fo 
extenfively  ferved  them.     I  truft  his  fer vices  will 
be,  by  us  at  leaft,  gratefully  remembered. 

E 


(     34     ) 

God  has  now  taken  him  from  us  in  the  full 
flrength  of  all  his  powers,  and  at  the  height  of 
his  ufefulnels.  Let  this  difpenfation  be,  at  once, 
a  folerrin  monition  to  us  of  our  own  approaching 
dilTolution,  and  of  our  duty  to  imitate  his  diligence. 
Let  us  be  quickened  by  it  to  faithfulnefs,  zeal,  and 
confr/ancy,  in  the  fervice  of  our  Mailer.  Times 
like  theie  mrniih  a  miriifter  with  abundant  em- 
ployment, and  demand  of  him  unufual  diligence, 
faithfulnefs,  and  fortitude.  The  induflry  of  infi- 
dels, their  perfeverance,  their  fanaticifm,  prefent 
to  us  a  powerful  ftimulus  to  equal,  if  we  cannot 
excel,  them  in  conflancy  and  exertion.  Long  has 
it  been  ajuft  and  melancholy  complaint,  that  vile 
men  are  more  aiiiduous  in  their  labours,  than  vir- 
tuous men  -,  and  that  a  bad  caufe  is  ufually  fuf- 
tained  with  more  vigorous  and  unremitted  efforts, 
than  a  good  one.  Let  us  endeavour,  that  this  mail 
no  more  be  truly  faid,  where  we  are  engaged. 
Troubles  and  dangers,  inftead  of  difcouraging, 
ought  only  to  quicken  our  refolution,  faithfulnefs, 
and  zeal.  They  that  are  with  us  are  more,  and 
mightier,  than  they  that  are  againfl  us.  For  dis- 
couragement there  is  no  room  ;  for  exertion  there 
is  abundant.  When  our  fathers  and  brethren  are 
taken  away,  their  labours  devolve  on  thofe,  whom 
they  leave  behind.  Let  us  refolutely  take  up  the 
burden,  and  God  will  give  us  ftrength  to  carry  it. 
What  will  give  us  boldnefs  and  peace  in  the  pre- 
fence  of  Chrift  at  the  judgment  ?  What,  but  faith- 
fulnefs in  his  fervice  ? 

We  mall  indeed  meet  with  rebuffs  and  feoffs, 

with  obloquy  and  oppoiition.     But  to  us  thefe 

things  are  :>f  no  real  confequence.     God  is  far 

more   flighted,  abufed,  and  reviled,  than  we  are. 

me  manner  was  Chrift  treated  ;  and  in  a 


(  25  ) 
degree  unfpeakably  more  grofs  and  inj urious.  Like 
him,  let  us  fet  our  faces  as  a  flint  againfl  all  oppo- 
iition,  and  he  will  fupport  and  biefs  us.  Let  us 
be  conftant  and  unwearied  in  our  prayers  and  la- 
bours, and  we  mail  certainly  be  heard  and  prof- 
pered. 

4.  I  will  now  clofe  the  difcourfe  with  an  ad- 
drefs  to  this  numerous  ArTembly. 

The  Friend,  the  Minifter,  whofe  remains  are 
fhut  up  in  yonder  coffin,  a  few  days  fince  was  liv- 
ing and  acting  in  the  midft  of  you,  his  neighbours, 
his  friends,  and  his  flock.  He  has  finifhed  his 
earthly  courfe,  and  has  been  fummoned  by  his 
Mafter  to  the  inviiible  world  to  give  an  account 
of  his  ftewardmip.  .Lie  will  not  return  to  you, 
but  you  will  foon  go  to  him.  You  will  ibon 
clofe  your  eyes  in  the  iron  fleep,  will  inhabit  the 
dark  and  narrow  houfe,  will  become  the  prey  of 
corruption,  and  the  feaft  of  worms.  Your  bodies 
will  be  mineled  with  the  common  duff,  and  be 
changed  into  the  cold  clod  of  the  valley.  But' 
they  reft  not  here.  There  is  beyond  the  grave  a 
refurrection  to  immortal  being. 

How  vain,  how  momentary,  is  your  prefent 
life,  when  viewed  as  a  period  of  enjoyment  for  a 
reafoning  mind  ?  How  important  and  folemn,  as 
a  period  deftined  to  fecure  the  attainment  of  end- 
lefs  virtue  and  happineis  ?  On  it,  transient  and  vi- 
fionary  as  it  is,  hang  heaven  and  hell,  immortal 
glory  and  excellence,  and  interminable  wrctched- 
nefs  and  depravation.  Afk  the  firft  hoary  head* 
which  you  meet,  and  he  will  tell  you,  that  his  awn 
protradted  years  are,  in  his  view,  a  ir,  which 

has  appeared  for  a  little  time,  and  is  now  vanifh- 
ing  away  ;  that,  compared  with  that  ocean  of  e- 
ternity,  on  the  fh,ore  of  which,  he  now  ftands, 


(     3«    ) 

ready  to  launch  into  the  boundlefs  deep,  it  fhrmks 
into  a  fingle  drop  ;  that  its  contentions  were  the 
jarrings  of  children,  its  hopes  the  dreams  of  a 
night,  and  its  happinefs  the  painted  form  of  a 
cloud,  changing,  fleeting,  eluding  the  grafp,  and 
mocking  enjoyment.  How  few  of  you  will  reach 
the  period  to  which  he  has  arrived  ?  How  many 
of  you  will  probably  die,  before  you  are  aware, 
fuddenly,  early,  unprepared  ? 

Afk  yourfelves  how  you  will  feel,  and  what  ap- 
pearance you  will  make,  when  your  bodies,  at  the 
call  of  the  Archangel,  and  the  trump  of  God,  fhall 
ipring  from  the  grave,  when  bone  fhall  rejoin  its 
bone,  when  the  frame  fhall  be  clothed  with  flefh, 
when  the  Spirit  of  God  fhall  breathe  upon  the 
lifelefs  mafs,  and  caufe  it  to  awaken  into  endlefs 
exiftence  ;  and  when  you,  together  with  the  un- 
numbered millions  of  the  great  family  of  Adam, 
fhall  again  ftand  upon  your  feet,  as  an  army  of  in- 
comprehenfible  multitude  ?  What  will  be  your 
emotions,  when  you  mail  fee  the  Son  of  Mande- 
fcend  from  heaven  in  the  clouds  ;  and  all  the  kind- 
reds of  the  earth  fhall  wail  becaufe  of  his  coming  ? 
Stretch  your  view  forward  to  this  amazing  fcene, 
and  bring  it  home  to  your  thoughts ;  confider  the 
.final  day  as  arrived,  and  realize  your  perfonal  ap- 
pearance, and  concern,  in  its  affecting  tranfa&ions. 
Behold  the  Redeemer,  arrayed  in  the  glory  of  his 
Father,  and  furrounded  with  the  innumerable 
company  of  Angels,  Liflen  to  the  fhout,  which 
burfls  from  the  mouths  of  all  the  hofl  of  heaven, 
and  rends  the  univerfe.  Mark  around  you  the  im- 
menfe  congregation  of  faints  and  finners,  of  the 
friends  and  the  enemies  of  the  Judge ;  his  friends 
arrayed  with  the  fmiles  of  transport,  and  his  ene- 
mies overwhelmed  with  difmay  and  horror.    Hear 


(     37     ) 

the  one  great  company  exclaim,  O  Death  !  where 
is  now  thy  fling  ?  O  grave  !  where  is  now  thy 
victory  ?  and  the  other  call  to  the  rocks  and  to 
the  mountains  to  fall  on  them,  and  hide  them  from 
the  wrath  of  the  Lamb.  But  they  call  in  vain  ; 
for  lo  !  the  mountains  and  the  rocks  themfelves, 
with  the  great  world  in  which  they  ftand,  are 
kindling  on  every  fide  with  ten  thoufand  fires,  and 
diflblving  in  one  immenfe,  united  conflagration, 
furrounding  the  earth,  and  afcending  to  the  hea- 
vens. See  the  elements  melt  with  fervent  heat, 
and  all  the  buildings,  arts,  and  labours  of  man 
fwept  away  at  a  ftroke  by  the  befom  of  deflruc"li- 
on.  See  the  Righteous,  efcaped  from  the  univer- 
fal  ruin,  are  caught  up  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the 
air  ;  while  the  Wicked,  left  behind  in  inexpreffi- 
ble  agony,  wait  with  fupreme  difmay  the  approach 
of  the  Judge.  Trembling,  amazed,  defpairing, 
they  are  forced  to  the  left  hand,  the  place  of  dif— 
grace,  confufion,  and  mifery.  Liften  to  the  fb- 
lemn  fentence,  "  Come,  ye  bleffed  of  my  Father, 
inherit  the  kingdom,  prepared  for  you  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world  $"  and  mark  the  extafy 
on  the  faces  of  the  happy  throngs,  who  are  thus 
welcomed  to  endlefs  life.  Liften  again  !  What 
do  ye  hear  ?  "  Depart,  ye  curfed,  into  everlafting 
fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels."  Fol- 
low the  icene  one  ftep  farther.  Behold  the  Judge, 
again  afcending  through  the  heavens,  with  his 
glorious  and  happy  followers,  to  the  world  of  ev- 
erlafting joy.  Purfue  their  path  through  yonder 
Ikies,  and  trace  them  riling,  approaching,  enter- 
ing the  maniions  of  life  eternal.  Caft  now  your 
eyes  downward,  and  fee,  wrapped  in  the  clouds  of 
death,  the  miferable  companions  of  evil  fpirits, 
finking  to  the  world  of  filence  and  darknefs,  of 


(     38     ) 

forrow  and  defpair.  See  them  for  the  laft  time 
vanifhing  from  your  fight,  while  the  gulf  yawns 
to  receive  them,  and  clofes  on  them  forever. 

Look,  my  friends  and  brethren,  into  your  own 
bofoms,  and  afk  your  confeiences  in  which  ai- 
fembly  you  will  be  numbered,  and  to  which  world 
you  will  wing  your  flight,  on  this  great  and  dread- 
ful day. 


ayjMHHflBJWWWl|t!l..H.MJi.Wl.U.W  .i  i  ..-wit  jM.lttriH 


APPENDIX. 


THE  Reader  will  probably  not  be  difpleafed  with 
a  fhort  account  of  die  life  of  Doctor  Goodrich. 
Doctor  Goodrich  was  born  of  a  reputable  family  in 
the  parifh  of  Stepney,  in  Wethersfleld,  Octo .  26,  O.  S. 
1734  j  He  received  his  literary  education  at  Yale-Col- 
lege, was  admitted  to  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of 
Arts  A.  D.  1752,  and  to  that  of  Matter  of  Arts  A. 
D.  1755,  and  was  the  fame  year  appointed  a  Tutor 
in  that  feminary.  In  1756,  Nov.  24,  he  was  ordained 
pallor  of  the  Church  and  Congregation  at  Durham ; 
and,  in  1776,  was  chofen  a  member  of  the  Corporation 
of  Yale- College.  Nov.  17,  1797,  he  fet  out  from  his 
houfe  on  an  annual  vifit  to  the  Collegiate  Lands  in  the 
County  of  Litchfield.  The  following  Sabbath  he 
preached  at  Litchfield,  and  on  Monday  rode  to  Nor- 
folk. He  lodged  at  the  houfe  of  Capt.  Titus  Ives, 
and  went  to  bed  in  his  ufual  health  and  cheerfulnefs. 
In  the  morning  he  rofe  early,  and,  having  partly  drefs- 
ed  himfelf,  fell  upon  the  floor  in  an  apoplectic  fit,  and 
expired,  in  the  64th  year  of  his  age,  and  the  42d  of  his 
miniftry.  His  remains  were  brought  to  Durham  on 
the  fucceeding  Saturday,  and  followed  to  the  grave  by 
his  Family,  Church,  and  Congregation^  and  a  numer- 


APPENDIX. 

ous  concourfe  of  ftrangers.  Mrs.  Goodrich  and  fix 
children,  viz.  five  fons  and  a  daughter,  furvive  him. 

The  following  character,  given  of  him  by  the  Rev. 
Enoch  Huntington  of  Middletown,  *  who  was  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  him  for  many  years,  will  with 
much  propriety  clofe  this  account. 

"  As  a  hufband,  a  parent,  a  friend,  how  endearing, 
faithful  and  valuable  he  was,  they  beft  can  tell,  to 
whom  he  flood  in  fuch  relations.  As  a  fcholar  he 
comprehended  the  circle  of  the  liberal  arts  and  fcien- 
ces.  He  excelled  in  the  languages,  in  Latin,  Greek 
and  Hebrew  j  in  the  Mathematics,  and  in  Philofophy  ; 
but  Divinity  was  his  peculiar  ftudy.  As  a  Chriftian 
Divine  he  was  folid,  judicious,  eftablifhed  with  grace  ; 
equally  free  from  the  wildnefs  of  enthufiafm  and  the 
rigors  of  fuperftition.  His  reading  was  extenfive,  his 
memory  tenacious,  his  piety  fubftantial,  his  gravity 
commanding  ;  his  profiting  appeared  unto  all  men,  and 
his  praife  is  in  all  the  churches.  He  was  a  wife  coun- 
fellour  and  peacemaker,  a  friend  and  lover  of  his  coun- 
try, and  of  mankind." 

*  Sec  the  Middlefex  Gazette  cf  Dec.  ift,  1797. 


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